


Rewrite

by skymirchant



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Gun Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 13:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13975869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skymirchant/pseuds/skymirchant
Summary: The Iconic scene, written a little more from Venom's perspective. He has some feelings.





	Rewrite

He felt the firm grip on his arm. It felt like a few seconds, but at the same time, it could have gone on for hours. Gore through a scope was normal now. He tried to be better.   
He heard the whispers of the dogs. The fear in their voices. The hushed conversations of the pack.   
Part of him was tired of the blood. He wanted to wash his hands of it.   
But he couldn't deny this. The phantom pain. The hours, awake, in agony. Ghost limbs reminding them both of who they used to be.   
Thunder and showers,  
aches delivered in sharp strikes of lightning.  
Electrifying that nostalgia, the ache in his chest equal to the phantom pains. But the dull throb was only the distant echoes of the storm. He’d put it behind him. As much as he could. 

But Kaz… Kaz felt it like a hurricane.   
Snake would never take this from him. It didn't feel wrong, but that all consuming rage, the malice, the anger- though righteous- it scared him.   
Side by side. Limbs or not. Bionics or smoke. They were together. 

Snake had the luxury of a coma. Of a pristine hospital room, milky white sheets and furniture.  
As if he was a treasure to be guarded. Like royalty. His hair was brushed. His beard trimmed, scars attended to.   
A marble carving, encased in a glass coffin of disinfectant and rubbing alcohol. 

Kaz had no such luxury. His life had been the opposite. He watched the grit and the despair of the world going by. Digging through the dirt, scrounging up whatever bones he could. A dog, left behind in the hurricane. Abandoned only to be kicked once more. To be tortured.  
Snake knew what that was like too well. His eye ached when he thought of what Kazuhira went through.

Killing skullface wouldn't fix it. It wouldn't bring his arm and leg back- his eyes wouldn’t be the same. The pain would remain. But Snake- he couldn't take that hope away. Kaz wouldn't listen. He had to learn for himself. 

A shot. Another.   
The Boss felt a million miles away. Like he was in that same dream, the world around him moving too slow for him to comprehend. His arm moved slightly, helping to aim, knowing Kaz would need the extra help. While he could still watch him writhe in agony. 

A gargled gasp from the man without a face. The gun hit the floor. Desperate pleas from a once proud man.

“Do it yourself.”


End file.
